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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753638">A Feast for Crows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoncore/pseuds/neoncore'>neoncore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Game of Thrones References, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinda, M/M, also RK900 goes by Conan, it's basically a game of thrones au, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:35:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoncore/pseuds/neoncore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Conan and King Reed talk the night before the most important battle of their pursuit for a seat on the Iron Throne</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Feast for Crows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a rewritten version of one of my first fics ever, Prepare for Battle. Honestly I like this version waaay more, I hope you enjoy it too &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sir Conan stood on the hill, taking in the view of the busy camp in front of him. Thousands upon thousands of knights were preparing for battle: training, sharpening their weapons or simply getting drunk. Who knows, maybe for the last time.</p><p> </p><p>Flaming tongues of burning campfires were trying to lick the star-embroidered sky, tainting the deep blue with a hue of orange. As he listened to the clashes of swords and drunken laughter, he let his mind wander. His thoughts were circling around his King; his lover. The small scar on the bridge of his nose, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he winked at Sir Conan, without paying attention to the crowds that always seemed to be around them. He was snapped out from his thoughts by a hand resting on his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye his saw the flames reflected in gold and jewels, and he immediately recognized the one who joined him.</p><p> </p><p>"Your Grace," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I thought you had business to discuss with your advisors. What made you decide to join me?"</p><p> </p><p>"I prefer your company over theirs. Besides, I missed you. We haven't had a chance to talk the whole day." King Reed answered, a distant look in his light blue eyes. He was wearing his battle armor made from black steel. He always preferred it rather than ceremonial clothing. But he did have his cloak on - it was a gift he received during his coronation from Queen Tina. A  masterpiece crafted by the hands of thousands of workers, laced with golden and diamond threads and edged with the fur of creatures of the night, dark and shining in the moonlight. It was embroidered with the Reed family crest - a crow holding a piece of raw flesh in his claws, blood streaming down its beak.</p><p> </p><p>"I came out here to tell you something, to be honest." the King started in a soft, thoughtful tone. He never allowed anyone else besides Conan to hear it. He only spoke like that in the short moments when they were alone, away from the screaming crowds and loud advisors, or intoxicated knights and lords. "If I die tomorrow-"</p><p> </p><p>Before Reed could finish his sentence, Conan placed a hand on the king's cheek and turned his head ever so slightly, only to capture his lips with his own. The kiss was long and slow and somewhat sweet, their lips moved together in perfect unison. They didn't care about a page looking up at them from their master's tent. Or a concerned advisor trying to find the king. They were the only one's who mattered, in the dead of night on a clearing that will turn into a battlefield tomorrow.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't you dare finish that sentence," the knight whispered after they pulled away, his breath warm on Reed's face, their foreheads touching.</p><p> </p><p>The king sighed and cupped Conan's cheeks, his thumbs softly stroking the knight's cheekbones.</p><p> </p><p>Silence settled between them. They never needed words to communicate their feelings. They could see it in each other's eyes, in the way the other's muscles twitched, in the tone of the other's voice. Perhaps that's why Sir Conan was king Reed's most trusted adviser.</p><p> </p><p>They watched the camp slowly fall asleep before them. Most of the fires were out right now, the raging flames turning to dull strands of smoke, almost insignificant. Most of the drunken knights either passed out or fell asleep, making the camp much more quiet. You could hear wolves howling in the distance, as if singing some unknown tune of misery along to the wind's pained wailing.</p><p> </p><p>"I have many enemies. The only reason for me still living is you as my personal guard, I know that this is a fight I can't win, Conan. So you have to promise me something."</p><p> </p><p>"And what would that be, Your Grace?" he asked, trying to hide the heartbreak from seeping into his tone.</p><p> </p><p>"Win the Iron Throne for me. You know me, Conan, and I know you. You'd be a far better ruler than I could dream of becoming. You'll make these kingdoms into everything I want them to be. Or even better than that."</p><p> </p><p>Conan's voice was stuck in his throat. He felt like he was suffocating, even in the crisp air of the night. For a split second tears blurred his vision. He quickly blinked them away.</p><p> </p><p>"Of course, my Lord. I promise."</p><p> </p><p>"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're incapable of feeling emotions. You really will make a great king. Not showing anyone your weaknesses."</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Conan started, looking back at the camp. The only fire left was dying, the flames desperately searching for a piece of wood, a patch of dry grass to burn. In the blink of an eye, nothing but a lonely strand of smoke was left of it. "If I ever seat on the Iron Throne, my only weakness will be dead."</p><p> </p><p>A sad smile curved the corners of Reed's mouth as a humorless chuckle escaped his lips. The sea of silver star was reflected in the king's glassy eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"What I wanted to say earlier was that when I die tomorrow on the battlefield, you'll be the only one on my mind."</p><p> </p><p>He didn't want to hear anything more. He couldn't. He quickly pulled Reed in for a kiss. Then another. And another. And so they stood until the black night faded into a pale morning, and the knights began yawning and gearing up for battle.</p><p> </p><p>And when they pulled away from their last, final kiss he whispered,</p><p> </p><p>"When I take the Throne, you'll be the only one I think of for the rest of my life. "</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you liked it, thank you for reading! I may write a follow-up chapter about the battle itself soon &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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